Climbing the Mound
Not surprisingly, there were a number of formalities to go through in order to be recognised as a candidate for the ministry. I had to complete the inevitable application form and supply appropriate references. In those far-off days, the selection process for ministry candidates was surprisingly light and uncomplicated compared with today when it is (rightly) much more searching and rigorous. I was simply invited to attend one afternoon interview in the Church of Scotland Offices at 121 George Street in Edinburgh. On the basis of the interview, and furnishing suitable references, the decision would be made.
So, I duly presented myself in my uncomfortable best suit and white shirt before a roomful of the great and the good. In those days, they were all men, of course, and comprised a selection of senior ministers and elders plus a number of academics, who (perfectly graciously) grilled me for the best part of an hour.
One member of the panel was Professor Norman Porteous, the Principal of New College, whom I liked immediately and whom I would come to know much better at a later date. Though he looked somewhat austere and scholarly, he had a twinkle in his eye and gave me the impression of someone who was able to carry his considerable scholarship surprisingly lightly.
Professor Porteous encouraged me – in fact, virtually instructed me there and then – to sit the New College Bursary Competition. When I said I did not think I was of sufficient academic calibre, he told me quite firmly not to put myself down and that the Faculty of Divinity took a very kind view of anyone who even attempted the Competition. To cut a long story short, I did attempt it. Part of the exercise involved writing screeds of essay questions on theological subjects about which I knew next to nothing. Being self-opinionated, this was not such a major challenge as I had anticipated! I am not someone who is generally short of words; although I readily confess that I can certainly be short on depth and content.
I came in fifth in order of merit out of six candidates and was awarded the Buchanan Bursary of just over £40 a year, which certainly bought a very great deal more in 1966 than it would today. Twice a year, I had to venture into the marble splendour of the Head Office of the Bank of Scotland on the Mound to collect my “moiety”. This extra money proved to be extremely welcome over my three years of study. Once again, I was also fortunate enough to have my University fees paid and I was awarded a maintenance grant by the Scottish Education Department. I also appreciated the small salaries that were paid to me in the course of my three student assistantships.
There duly came my formal acceptance from the Church of Scotland as a candidate in training for the ministry plus the required endorsement by my (then) home Presbytery of Dunfermline and Kinross.
Before entering New College, I also had to attempt to master the elements of New Testament Greek in my spare time and pass a prescribed exam in that subject. I had studied a little (and I mean “a little”) classical Greek at school before dropping the subject like a hot brick, so at least I knew the Greek alphabet, if nothing else. In spite of some anxiety, I did manage to pass the exam comfortably and, to my great surprise, New Testament Greek actually became one of my strongest subjects. I do sometimes surprise myself, as well as other people.
We were also required to sit a pre-entry exam, set on behalf of the Church of Scotland, on certain books of the Bible. So, even before I arrived at New College, I felt that I had been well and truly examined and, to my great relief, had passed muster.
There were also Church of Scotland exams on the English Bible at the beginning of our second and third years of study. Even today, many people seem to assume that the purpose of a Divinity course is to teach students the Bible. In fact, it was presumed (rightly or wrongly!) that students were all thoroughly familiar with Holy Scripture before darkening the door of New College. And the Church of Scotland just wanted to make quite sure that we were. To fail any of the Bible exams was considered to be somewhat of a disgrace. I know of one fellow-student who did. He kept it extremely quiet and, when the re-sit came round, took himself off to sit it covertly at Trinity College, Glasgow.
I had chosen to attend New College because it was nearest to my parents’ home (then in Dunfermline) and because I was already a graduate of Edinburgh University. The twin towers of New College are a familiar landmark on the Mound in the Edinburgh.
The College was opened in 1846 as the nucleus of a new university that was to be set up by the recently formed, ambitious and thrusting Free Church of Scotland. Originally the plan was to found a complete new university and not merely a theological college. There were to have been three quadrangles but, as it happened, only one was ever built. The scheme was, even by Free Church standards, over-ambitious. The distinguished architect, William Playfair, had envisaged a series of buildings in the classical style to match his other examples at the foot of the Mound, but the Free Kirk was having none of such apparent paganism. Playfair’s revised plan – or rather, part of it - is what we see today, a curious mixture of fake Tudor and Victorian Gothic. 4
At the time when I attended New College, surprisingly little of the building had actually changed internally in more than 100 years, although it has since been radically modernised almost beyond recognition. The lecture rooms were spacious and well-proportioned though somewhat tired in appearance. The antiquated central heating system always seemed to be struggling in some parts of the building. Life at New College was pretty Spartan. There was also a definite degree of “maleness” about the College at that time. Female students were very much in the minority, across the board. There was, at the time, only one “loo” for women situated half-way up one of William Playfair’s twin towers. The male students used the impressive brass and black marble General Assembly toilets in the College basement!
Edinburgh in the 1960s was a rather different city from what it is today. To state the obvious, there was no Scottish Parliament. The city had a somewhat comfortably down-at-heel feeling. It was very much a city that was living on its past, or so it seemed. It was also still living up to its nickname of “Auld Reekie” in many respects. Many of the iconic buildings had been blackened by generations of smoke.
One clear recollection of my student days both at the Old College and at New College is the distinctive smell of beer brewing. Depending on the direction of the wind, this quite pleasant smell might be wafted from the Holyrood brewery (where the extraordinary looking Scottish Parliament building now stands) or from Fountainbridge. The rubber works could also add its unique contribution to the mixture. Another recollection is the sound of horses’ hooves on cobbled streets. St Cuthbert’s Cooperative Society’s milk floats were all horse-drawn and there were also many brewers’ drays transporting barrels of beer to the various hostelries throughout the city.
The majority of the BD students at New College were candidates for the Church of Scotland ministry which, at that time, was only open to men 5 although that position was to change during my time at New College. Ministry candidates included a high proportion of younger men, like me, in their twenties. Most of the younger men, unlike me, had come straight from an Arts degree. There were also a few “mature students” in their thirties and forties and whom we younger men considered to be really quite old. The College was further enriched by having BD students for ministry in traditions other than the Church of Scotland, both from the United Kingdom and further afield.
In addition, there was always a good cohort of PhD students. Many were from the USA. Religious Studies were also available as components of an Arts degree but, at that time, were taught in the main University and not in New College. As time has gone on, Religious Studies has proved a major growth area whereas the numbers of men or women seeking to enter ministry via the traditional BD route has very considerably shrunk.
Even in the 1960s, most of the academic staff at New College had some record of service in the ministry of the Church of Scotland although that was beginning to change even by the time I graduated in 1969.
By and large, my time at New College passed happily enough. Although I was still a very young man, I had a bit more confidence, having already achieved one degree (something I had thought in my schooldays might never happen) and I was no longer a raw school leaver. I realised for the first time that possibly I was at least reasonably bright, although I leave that for others to judge. I had no real difficulty in passing all the exams. I encountered some very interesting people, both staff and students, who both encouraged and challenged my faith.
I tried to play a part in College life and served for a year as Chapel Convener, arranging the rota for daily College prayers. I also served on the Committee of the University Theological Society. I remember in my final year, our guest speaker was Archbishop Anthony Bloom of the Greek Orthodox Church. The Society entertained him to a traditional Scottish High Tea in Patrick Thomson’s (“PT’s”) restaurant on the North Bridge. Other diners looked on in fascination at this impressive looking figure with his substantial beard and flowing black robes!
During the Easter holidays of my first year of divinity studies, a few of us accepted an invitation to spend a week at Iona Abbey as guests of the Iona Community. It was an interesting experience all round. I would describe it as being like the Curate’s egg – good in parts. I was particularly interested in meeting and talking with Very Rev Lord McLeod of Fuinary “Dr George”, soldier, scholar, clergyman, founder and leader of the Community. I liked and respected him, even if I did not go along with everything he said. But there is no doubt in my mind that his heart was in the right place and no one would say of him that he blew neither hot nor cold. Rev T Ralph Morton, author of the influential book “God’s Frozen People” and deputy leader was also one of our conference speakers.
At the end of my first year, I accepted a voluntary three month summer student assistantship, under the auspices of the Church of Scotland Home Board (as it then was) at the linked charge of Altnaharra and Farr (usually referred to as Bettyhill) in the Presbytery of Sutherland. It was a useful introduction to the Highland aspects of the Church of Scotland which, culturally, seemed a hundred miles away from what I was accustomed to as a town and city boy.
I was especially puzzled by the Highland communion practices whereby the communion “season” lasted for several days. Even more puzzling (to me) was that, at the actual communion service on Sunday morning, only a tiny handful of the well-attended congregation actually came forward to take communion. There was no distribution of the elements; those who wished to communicate, literally had to come forward and approach the table which, even then, in some Highland congregations was still “fenced” even if only by implication.
The communion season officially opened on Thursday morning with a service attended by pupils from the local primary school. There were further preparatory services on the evenings of Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Communion was dispensed on Sunday morning with a thanksgiving service in the evening. Some churches even had a further service on Monday evening.
The communion season was a feat of endurance and usually a visiting minister preached at the preparatory services. Even more puzzling was the so-called “fast day”, on the Thursday. During my time at Bettyhill, I also attended a Thursday morning service at Elphin, a crofting township in Assynt, about 15 miles north of Ullapool. The Free Church folk, almost next door, were (as is their custom) observing communion at exactly the same date and time as the Church of Scotland. The clergy and elders from both churches had been invited to adjourn to a local bed and breakfast where we were served with one of the most enormous lunches I have ever seen. Even for a hungry young man, finishing the meal was quite a struggle. I asked why Thursday was called a “fast day”, when we ate so much. Judging by the silence that followed, I had asked the awkward question, not for the first time (nor for the last time) in my life.
I spent three full months at Bettyhill, preaching most Sundays at Altnaharra and also in the little “tin tabernacle” church of Syre at the head of Strathnaver. On two Sundays, armed with the confidence of youth, I travelled south to conduct the morning service at Lairg Parish Church which, at the time, was vacant. For me, this was all good experience.
During my time at New College, I also undertook student assistantships during term times. In my first year, I was assigned to Saint Paul’s Parish Church in Dunfermline, which provided a good introduction. Sadly, this handsome hexagonal building in the town centre was later destroyed by fire and the congregation was subsequently dissolved.
In my second year, I was assigned to Morningside Parish Church, Edinburgh where Professor Norman Porteous, the Principal of New College, was a member. So, occasionally I had to preach to the Principal. He was always very gracious in his comments although I used to wonder to myself what he actually thought.
He did give me one very useful piece of advice which I remember to this day. He told me that when I was announcing the Scripture Reading, it was important to pause and look up at the congregation. I still remember his words: “It’s the Word of God for the people of God.” On a much less important matter, Professor Porteous also showed me the knack of how to stand, talk to people and comfortably hold a cup of tea all at the same time, which was certainly an excellent example of practical theology!
In my third and final year I was attached to Broughton Place Church, a handsome classical building on the edge of the New Town of Edinburgh. A previous minister of the congregation had been one of several distinguished “John Browns”.6 A prominent member of the congregation in my time was the Hon Lord Leechman, one of the judges in the Court of Session. I used to wonder whether he thought I argued my case well, or not. Perhaps fortunately, I will never know. Broughton Place, like my own home church in Dunfermline, was a former UP congregation and observed the strict division between elders and managers.
I feel somewhat sad to realise that not one of the three congregations in which I served as a student assistant still exists. St Paul’s, Dunfermline, was destroyed by fire. After some years of sharing buildings with the nearby Congregational Church, the congregation was dissolved. Morningside united with the nearby North Morningside and the building belonging to the former is now used as a lecture theatre for Napier University. Broughton Place, after a union with McDonald Road Church, united with St Mary’s Bellevue. The Broughton Place building served as a theatre for some time and is now an auction saloon.
By the time I had entered my second year at New College, I felt confident and comfortable in my theological position as a “main stream” Church of Scotland evangelical. I was not, and never have been, what is now commonly referred to as a fundamentalist. I believed – and I still believe – that Jesus Christ is the Saviour of the world and that the Bible is the Word of God. I prefer not to press matters too much further. In Scotland we believe in using a good measure of common sense and this approach can be – and has been – brought to our interpretation of Holy Scripture.
Possibly because of my legal training, I enjoyed systematic and dogmatic theology because it seemed to make sense and to hold together. I know men and women who have less of an attachment to Scripture and doctrine generally than I have and who are certainly just as “good” Christians as the next person. To me, anyone who believes in Jesus Christ as Saviour is potentially my brother or sister, even if we take up different positions on some areas of theological interpretation. Although it is a cliché, it is surely true that the things that unite are more important than the things that divide.
In my second year of study, I decided that I would attempt the Honours rather than the Ordinary BD degree and that I would specialise in the New Testament. It was, for me, a close call. I was greatly attracted to Christian Dogmatics and valued being taught by the powerful and challenging lectures of Professor Tom Torrance. However, I felt (perhaps mistakenly) that I did not have sufficient background in philosophy to grapple with Dogmatics, so I opted for New Testament. Given the wisdom and benefit of hindsight, I am not sure that I made the best decision (for me).
I do remember with appreciation the personal support of Rev Robin Barbour, MC, Senior Lecturer (later a Professor at Aberdeen and Master of Christ’s College) in New Testament who always had a genuine pastoral concern for his students. I attended several extra tutorial groups that he held in his home. He is someone else whom I don’t think I ever thanked properly for his support.
I also had to choose one elective speciality within New Testament studies which, in my case was textual criticism. I discovered that I was the first student in about ten years to have chosen what was perceived as a boring subject, although I personally found it fascinating. The choice meant that I had regular one-to-one seminars with Rev Dr Ian Moir, who was always a scholar and a gentleman and with whom I kept in regular touch after I left New College. He could look at the most obscure and illegible ancient document and read it with as much ease as one might read today’s newspaper.
In my final year, I was particularly fortunate in being able to attend the seminars offered by Very Rev Professor James S Stewart, still a much respected and charismatic figure. He was kind enough to invite his seminar class to his own home for an evening. To my surprise, after we had finished tea, he handed out copies of the Billy Graham Song Book and competently accompanied our singing on his grand piano!
I also remember with affection, the very thorough seminars on the Acts of the Apostles and I Peter provided by the patriarchal Dr Alan Barr from the United Free Church of Scotland who spoke with quite a thick Glasgow accent and carried his considerable knowledge very lightly. He had a dry sense of humour that he could use effectively in class whilst, at all times, handling the Scripture text with unfailing respect. Because theologians tend to be serious-minded people they are not necessarily well known for having much of a sense of humour.
The Professor of New Testament, Hugh Anderson, suffered a tragic bereavement with the totally unexpected death of his son, aged (by memory) around 20, half way through my second year. This meant that he was really not functioning fully for quite some time thereafter and he had virtually no input into my final honours year. This was a considerable lack and three of us (Nick Archer, Dave Randall and me) virtually taught ourselves with some help behind the scenes from the kind and diplomatic Robin Barbour. It was quite a stressful and anxious time.
As an honours student, I had the option, in studying church history, of taking classes in the early church rather than in the reformation period. I went for the early church option, something I have never regretted. Our teacher was the distinguished patristic scholar, David Wright who, at the time was still quite a young man. David certainly knew his stuff and was incredibly thorough although he was very much an academic and, in my experience, showed little empathy with people who wanted to enter the ministry. If, today, I have any insight into the complicated and convoluted history of the early church, it is because of David’s classes.
In my time at New College, Practical Theology was still a relatively marginal subject, which might surprise many people. It did not count towards the BD degree, although it did count towards our progress as Church of Scotland candidates. I do not want to be critical of the training that we did receive. I would be much more critical of what we did not receive. For example, there was no teaching on how to conduct baptism or communion, how to approach a funeral, how to conduct a session meeting and many other day to day, but important, aspects of parish ministry. We were, presumably, expected to pick up these skills in our probationary year, which considerably depended on how far our “bishop” (the nickname always given to the minister to whose congregation we were attached) was willing to train and support us. In practice the quality of this training and support varied greatly. I was very fortunate in my bishop, as explained further below.
I have no wish to be ungracious but I would say that, in my time at New College, I received more useful instruction in the “practical” elements of theology from the Torrance brothers (Professor Tom and his brother James) in the Christian Dogmatics class than from the Practical Theology department. The Professor of Practical Theology, James Blackie, was a friendly and sincere man who had previously served effectively both in parish ministry and as Chaplain to the University but, in my perception he somehow never quite succeeded in integrating the practicalities of ministry with the important theological issues that arose in other College classes.
Professor Blackie was ably assisted by Dr John Gray, an acknowledged expert in Christian education who also took us for homiletics. He was a man of great ability and widely read but could be rather acerbic in his criticism, especially if he took a “pick” at a particular student, which he did on a regular basis. He also very much had his favourites who, in his eyes, could do no wrong. Whilst I was certainly not one of the latter, he and I had a reasonably good relationship and there were some valuable lessons I was able to learn from him.
I would also make honourable mention of Rev Bill Shaw, then a Lecturer in Divinity and later a Professor at St Andrews, who was my mentor during my time at New College. I will return to him later.
One very valuable member of the Practical Theology team was Miss Evelyn Balfour-Brown, a charming, cultured and artistic lady, who taught sacred elocution and had the status of an Honorary Lecturer. She had the unenviable task of going to “hear” all the men who were Church of Scotland candidates preaching on at least one occasion. As it happened, she heard me more than once as her own home church was Morningside Parish where I was Student Assistant in my second year. She pointed out to me that I tend to speak through my nose, like a ventriloquist, something of which I was entirely unaware.
I remember on one occasion when she was making us practice speaking in the Rainy Hall at New College (an acoustic monstrosity!), she called out to me “Mr Gordon, stand up straight and open your mouth!” However, she always had a soft spot for me after she discovered that my Dad was the Rector of Dunfermline High School, a post that had once been held by her grandfather, Dr John (“Podgy”) MacDonald.
Church of Scotland candidates were also expected to be “heard” by at least one other member of New College staff. I was fortunate in that I was “heard” by Rev James Torrance when I was at Broughton Place Church in my final year. James was always extremely gracious, positive and encouraging in his feedback and suggestions. As it happened, he himself had been a Student Assistant in the same church.
During my second and third years, I stayed in the New College Residence on Mound Place, immediately next to New College. The Residence was built on the site of a house occupied by Mary of Guise, when she was Regent of Scotland during the minority of her daughter, the future Mary Queen of Scots. The Residence commands the most fantastic views over Edinburgh, the Firth of Forth, Fife and far beyond. I did not really appreciate this at the time.
The building, which has subsequently been considerably renovated, dates from the earlier part of the nineteenth century and, in my time it was almost literally creaking at the seams. The plumbing and heating systems were antiquated and the electrics decidedly dodgy. The Residence was, at the time, almost entirely populated by Divinity students and we enjoyed great fellowship, sharing our aspirations, hopes and fears, to say nothing of many good laughs.
The Residence in my time was under the supervision of a matron, the redoubtable Miss “Minnie” Mackenzie, whom we young men-folk liked, respected and sometimes even feared!
One fellow student whom I particularly remember from New College Residence days is George Dragas, who came from Athens and, at the time, was studying to become a minister in the Evangelical Presbyterian Church of Greece, although at a later date he moved over to the Greek Orthodox Church. George spoke almost perfect English and even developed a definite Scots accent during his time in Edinburgh.
He was certainly the brightest under-graduate in the Faculty of Divinity in my year. Later, he would be appointed as a Lecturer at the University of Durham and later still Professor of Patrology at Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology in Brookline, Massachusetts.
George could never understand why we Scots always complain about our weather when we have such a wonderful cool climate! George paid several visits to my parents’ home in Dunfermline. He and Dad hit it off immediately and spent some happy times discussing the correct pronunciation of certain Greek words. Enough said!
I also remember, with affection, a very young man, Malcolm Clarke, at the time an Arts student from England who had recently been converted. He was like a breath of fresh air and both amused and challenged those of us who were seeking to enter ministry. Eventually, Malcolm himself trained for ministry with the United Reformed Church at Mansfield College, Oxford and had fruitful ministries, retiring in 2016.
My father retired from his post as Rector of Dunfermline High School in 1968 and, as indicated earlier, was invited to take up a Research Lectureship at Moray House College of Education. At the same time, my parents relocated from Dunfermline to a new house at Milltimber on lower Deeside on the western outskirts of Aberdeen.
With some mixed feeling, I decided to transfer my allegiance from the Presbytery of Dunfermline and Kinross (as I no longer had any active connections with Fife) to the superintendence of the Presbytery of Edinburgh.
I duly and successfully preached my “trials” at Currie Kirk, on the edges of the city of Edinburgh around Easter 1969. I don’t remember much about it now or even what the subject of my sermon was. I do remember that the weather was bitterly cold and there were even a few flurries of snow.
I left New College in 1969 with a Bachelor of Divinity (BD) Second Class Honours degree in New Testament Language, Literature and Theology.
It was an exciting time. “Life with its path before us lies.”